


Cold to the Bone

by HarlotsHouse



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Attempted Kidnapping, Blood, Cannibalism, Choking, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, It's okay Hannibal likes the sensation, Lake cryptid, M/M, Murder, Mutilation, Mutual Pining, Will Graham reluctantly loves Hannibal Lecter, Will has odd features but for the most part looks human, Will likes to suck Hannibal's life force, choking by strong wire, cryptid!will graham, deadly makeout sessions lol, human/nonhuman relationship?, implied monsterfucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28672422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarlotsHouse/pseuds/HarlotsHouse
Summary: Amongst the trudging waters of a lake in Wolf Trap, Virginia, Hannibal Lecter finds a blue-eyed cryptid lurking in its clandestine depths.---In which Hannibal makes attempts at getting to know the man-creature named Will. Will agrees on the condition he brings him more human morsels for him to eat.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 60
Collections: Hannibal Flash Fic #001, Hannibal Flash Fic Week 1





	Cold to the Bone

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off this week's picture prompt. Thanks for reading!

Fog shields the body of water in a shroud, masking its depth, as the thick green-blue liquid lies in wait for its next victim. The solemn lake at this point of night has transformed into a dark dangerous abyss, its deceiving silence a death trap, as the tendrils of weeds and plants at the bottom of it rise like grasping hands, clawing at the man fool enough to enter. His splashing limbs disturb the surface, the otherwise languid water now attempts to swallow him whole in one mouthful of bitter water. A pair of wine colored eyes watches the drowning man's struggle.

For several nights now, he's observed with fierce attention as pale, clawed hands sink into the flesh of its latest morsel. Every so often Hannibal catches sight of glimmering skin, thus prompting him to take a step forward for a better view, only for the creature to immediately dunk itself fully in the water once more.

He'd discovered the cryptid's existence by chance for the first time a month previous, Hannibal had dumped a pig into the lake at the last minute -for its less than satisfactory decorum it'd portrayed at a high-end tailor shop- only for Hannibal to witness the ginger's mauling by account of snapping razors in the midst of the lake. Enraptured with the visage, Hannibal had been taken with trying to lure the creature to reveal itself some more.

Eventually, growing tired of only fleeting visuals of bluish skin and dark hair, he decides to hold off on visiting the elusive creature for a week. Hoping this'll build up its hunger, it most likely now used to Hannibal's daily providence.

Days fly by, amounting Hannibal's anticipation the same way a mountain of sand rises inside an hourglass, fervently but with patience. This time around, his victim's limbs have been separated and strung along on a strong wire, like a bead necklace made of clumps of human flesh. Throwing them will be near impossible, and Hannibal requires them to reach far into the lake, so he devices a small raft made from lightweight wood for the head of the chain to rest on. The head itself of course, being an actual human head.

Once in front of the lake, Hannibal folds his pant cloth up to his knees, ties his end of the wire to a knarly stump behind him, and carefully enters the lake along with the bait. Giving the raft a firm push, Hannibal watches as the flowing water moves the string of chopped limbs along on its own in a tentative offering. Hannibal waits on the safety of the shore for a few minutes, hands ready and grasping the cord, before finally, he spots a dark blob peak out of the water. This is the longest the creature has let itself be viewed, Hannibal realizes with delight. He can faintly make out dripping dark clumps of hair, glaring half of a humanoid moon-faced being, before the creature's mouth comes into view and unhinges itself as it devours the head set on the raft.

His jaw set, and hands slowly pulling in the cord, Hannibal takes a moment to bask in his awe as the creature is lured closer to the shore. Closer to Hannibal. The lake-water cryptid seems to notice Hannibal's pulling, and begins dragging the wire towards itself with an astonishing strength that leaves Hannibal breathless as he partakes in their odd game of tug-o-war. Despite his gloved hands, the wire has now begun to cut through the fabric due to the pulling, soon Hannibal's palms will bleed. The bubbling water is now only seven feet from shore.

Taking a risk, Hannibal quickly lets go of the wire, enjoying the sound of snapping jaws for a split second, before taking off one glove and letting the rich smell of iron permeate the air. He holds his bleeding palm straight out, as if in greeting, and Hannibal truly believes it is, as the creature's face, now clearer than ever, pops out of the water.

Its lake-colored eyes glow with what Hannibal can only perceive as fervent hunger, nose taking in an audible breath at the bloody aroma, while its tight lips hide what can only be rows of sharp teeth.

What is only a head slowly becomes a pair of broad shoulders, a torso, and legs, as the murky sludge of the water licks the creature's ankles.

Hannibal is slightly surprised at its lack of scales. Despite this, the creature's skin does a light shimmering of its own, as if someone took millions of particles of cut glass and ground it into a fine powder before showering the cryptid with it. Its hair, while clumpy and wet, still curls under its weight. Hannibal ponders how wild and soft it might look once dry. There are four rows of gills on either side of its ribcage, two at the sides of its neck, upon where further up its ears fan out like webs. The appendages quiver and extend until spikes protrude from them, along with its webbed hands, in what Hannibal concludes to be an intimidation tactic.

Low guttural rumbling begins to emit from the man-like creature (a quick glance down informs Hannibal its sex is most likely male) before it takes a step forward, now at the very edge of the shore. Hannibal makes no effort to flee, but neither does he attempt to pull himself toward it, merely observes as the creature sizes him up.

"What a beautiful thing you are."

The creature hisses, sharp fangs flashing.

"That won't deter me," Hannibal says with a small grin.

It's claws extend with a sharp popping noise, arm raises, ready to strike. Hannibal quickly crouches to pick up his other prepared wire and all but lunges at the creature, pulling it around its throat.

It begins to make stuttered choking noises, small rivulets of blood bead out of the gashes on its neck as its claws attempt to pull the wire away.

"I hate to hurt you but I revel in the sight of it," Hannibal reverends, his arms crossed over one another in front of him as his hands hold either end of the wire. "If you come along with me there will be no need for this. I only seek you and to know the apparatus of your complex form. I won't expunge you, not with this wire."

Hannibal tugs the slowly crumbling creature towards him until they are face to face, with it nearly at its knees. Filmy, yellow and blue eyes glance up at the hovering man with disdain. "On the occurrence you escape my reach, I won't forget the sight of you like this."

Sudden, and dismantling, Hannibal finds his mouth overtaken with the warmth of the cryptid's rough tongue. His grip on the wires softens, until the cords have dropped completely. There's a feeling like no other consuming Hannibal, as if at once he is both having his life force devoured and reimbursed from his toes to the top of his head with energy. Hannibal discovers himself a born addict to the feeling and whatever sweet salty liquid the creature is now transferring into his throat. Poison, Hannibal fleetingly thinks. Just as his eyes begin to roll to the back of his head, mind weightless and consciousness fleeing, the creature dislodges its mouth from his and takes a step away.

Hannibal lands on his knees, out of breath, gasping in mouthfuls of air. He pulls his gaze upward to find the man-creature gazing down at him much like a predator glares at scrambling prey. Despite the undeniable frown creasing his brow bone, Hannibal notes the other man has an expression in his lake-blue eyes not dissimilar to Hannibal's own. "Once you...leave my reach," the croaking words slowly leave the drenched man's lips, syllables clearly unfamiliar to his vocal cords. "I will...remember you...like this."

Hannibal sees the phrase for what it is, a mockery of his own previous words. In spite of himself and his need for manners, Hannibal excuses the man's rudeness. Instead his gaze remains unwavering from the other man's form as he retreats back into the water, curiously, with Hannibal's wire in hand.

"Wait," Hannibal does not yell, he knows his message will be picked up by the other's (most likely) sensitive hearing. The creature pauses. "This won't be the last time I see you."

The water offspring's profile is outlined beautifully by a shimmer of moonlight, as a single glowing eye gives Hannibal its attention, before diving back into the waters from whence it came.

* * *

A pair of clawed webby hands wrap a wire around the two people struggling in the lake, letting it wrap around their flaying appendages, pulled tightly until eventually their limbs disconnect from their torso. Hannibal has seen the various ways in which the cryptid has taken to playing with the meals he's brought it. He brings his sketchbook along with him, hoping he'll catch the barest of hints of dark greenish accented dark hair or pale bluish skin to mark down the fibers of his cream paper.

Hannibal takes pleasure in noting that the man-creature has not redone the odd stunt he pulled on Hannibal those few nights ago on any of his morsels.

There's a small rippling of water, signaling Hannibal that the show is over. As he begins to put his materials away he is faintly surprised to sense the eyes of the creature on him. He decides to play the ignorant human and goes about packing away neatly his graphite and charcoals, wiping his fingers on the smooth cloth of his shammy. Hannibal smells the creature before he sees him. He turns his head to find the cryptid's head halfway peeking out of the water, much the same way a cottonmouth might slither its head out of the swamp before striking.

"Done being shy, are we?"

The other male frowns, processing the words. There's a small muttering that causes bubbles across the surface.

"I'm afraid your subaqueous speech does not translate well to me," -Hannibal makes move to stand- "dear one."

There's more muttering before finally, the man-creature warily rises from the murky depths to his full height.

Hannibal extends a hand to him, this time with no malicious intent. Though one could argue still very manipulative. "My name is Hannibal Lecter, might I know yours?"

Lake-blue eyes blatantly ogle the hand as if the offering is nothing more than an insult. They flit back up to stare into Hannibal's maroon eyes before quickly flicking away. The corners of Hannibal's eyes crinkle the slightest bit in both amusement and curiosity at the creature's obvious aversion to eye-contact. Hannibal lets his hand drop to his side.

"Not fond of eye contact are you?"

"I see...too much," pale blue lips say.

"I don't doubt it," Hannibal says as he casually leans against the boulder he'd been sitting on previously. "Does eye-contact have anything to do with what you...performed on me those few nights ago?"

At this the creature's expression seems to light with fury. "You called me 'dear one'...I am anything but dear to you...or your species. I do not want eye-contact with you."

"And yet, I still hold my bearings," a low chuckle rumbles out of Hannibal. "Tell me, will you? The reason you held back in killing me."

"There is...plenty of meals to come...if you are alive."

Hannibal nods before slowly taking a step forward. "I've a proposition for you."

"Prop-eh-si-shon," the water creature annunciates slowly, tasting the words.

"Something beneficial to us both. Helpful." Hannibal inches closer to the edge of the shore. "I shall bring you more humans for you to eat, and you hold eye-contact with me and do the same thing as you did before."

"No."

"Very well, I suppose the food supply is diminished from here on out."

"Your threats...are fruitless."

"Are they?" Hannibal heads back to his boulder, eyes on the other man the entire time. "This lake is several miles from civilization, the chances of anyone stumbling into your domain grow slim with every season-"

"Fish and algae still exist in the lake."

"Not for long. Your pallor and gaunt frame has filled up since I came along. You were starving previously, were you not?"

The bluish creature hesitates. A small dosage from Hannibal's energy should last him a month alone, not that he'd ever tell the funny pelted man. What worries the creature is that he'll become addicted to the man's life force, the slightest of slip-ups in his indulgence could very easily wind Hannibal up as one of the many skull heads in his nest. 

The Cold One will arrive soon, and with it all the leaves will fall and the lake will harden. He won't survive hibernation this season, not on an empty stomach. The Cryptid has been on the verge of his diminion for several moon cycles now, that is, until Hannibal showed up. While the human meals were nice and filling nothing compared to sucking Hannibal's vitality from his mouth. But that requires eye-contact and the exchange of his venom. The ritual never fails to give him unwanted memories that disorient and procure weird unwanted knowledge to his brain. Taking a part of the human into him. Although...this time was different. Experiencing parts of Hannibal's and his knowledge had been otherworldly rather than intrusive as most of these things tended to be the few times the Cryptid saw them.

"You know not...what you...ask of me."

"I'm fairly certain I do."

The creature shakes his head before beckoning Hannibal forward with a single stare. A part of Hannibal is transfixed with the lake blue-eyes, as if staring into them is his sole reason for existing. They lure him closer until he distantly senses cold water soaking up his shoes and lower half of his pants. This time around the creature gently, but sternly, pulls his head down before cold wet lips touch his own, blood colored gaze lost in the transient depths of the lake-blue one. Hannibal pays more attention this time to the feeling of the Creature's tongue entering his mouth. It's rough, much like a cat's tongue, but still pleasant feeling as it languidly slithers in Hannibal's mouth.

The sensation of whispering touches in Hannibal's insides fills him until it becomes a pleasant high frequency tingling, raising the hair along his arms and legs and sending a tremor of pleasure down his spine. It's nearly indescribable, how completely rubber limbed the ritual leaves him. The sedative expands across every blood cell in his body, creeps along his bones, his muscles, and flesh and overtakes them all like gangrene. In this moment there is no other but Hannibal and his Cryptid.

The feeling leaves him weightless. But then just as soon and mystically as it consumed him, it disappears. Hannibal sputters out as his body heaves in as much oxygen as it can, much to his self annoyance, while the creature watches with bored eyes.

"My name is Will."

Hannibal stands to his full height and carefully dabs at corner of his lips with a handkerchief he produced from his breast pocket. "As in William?"

"As in Will."

"Where did you obtain such a human name?"

"I chose it just now through your memories."

Hannibal's expression hardens, much to Will's amusement. "This event allows you to perceive another's memories?"

It's more of a statement than the question it is intended to be.

"Amongst other things. Have you changed your mind about making eye-contact with me, Dr. Lecter?"

"Your speech pattern has improved." Hannibal's eyes narrow. "You're aware of my occupation. Do you understand what any of what you've obtained signifies?"

"Some of it. Your strange human customs are still unfamiliar to me." Will smiles, teeth now flat and white as opposed to the sharp searing ones he had previously. "I can take on your physical traits as well. To some extent. Do your...colleagues know of your preference for human meat?"

A dark look crosses over Hannibal's eyes despite his otherwise neutral expression.

"You do not feel so in control now, do you Dr.?"

"Hannibal."

"As you've said twice now."

"You still haven't addressed me as such, Will."

"You haven't earned the right." Will shrugs.

"A difference of species' culture I suppose." Hannibal wades his way back to the sand bank. His back fully turned.

"Suppose what you want." Will drops into the water on his backside, gracefully moving with the water, as if he and it are conjoined.

In a way, Hannibal dictates that they are. Which prompts him to ask the question. "Do you require the water's presence at all times?"

Will opens his eyes up to gaze at the sky. "Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether a cannibalistic man plans to kidnap me again."

"I merely wanted to study you."

"What was it you said?" Will spreads himself like a starfish, webbed fingers and fins expanding as he stares up at the clouds. "I won't expunge you with this wire' If not the wire how would you do it?"

Hannibal is silent for a moment. Will waits, as he knows he will receive his answer. "I'd sedate you with my hands, dissect you, get to know you from every limb to the smallest of hair follicles. Arrange every piece of you on a platter amongst lotus flowers and lilies, paying homage to the waters you were raised in, before inexorably consuming your brain and then the rest of you. Make tools and ornaments from your bones. Not a single part put to waste."

"Do you give all your victims this treatment?" Will plunges the rest of his body back into the water, his head and shoulders facing Hannibal now.

"Are you my victim?" Hannibal raises a single manicured brow.

"No," Will says with a wide renewed razor sharp grin. "You're mine."

* * *

The scents are new and assaulting to Will's sensitive senses. Every sound from the city hammers like a woodpecker does to tree bark only thrice as worse and jarring. Putrid unfamiliar hard and flat grey dirt litters the expanse of the strange human domain. _Concrete and asphalt_ , Hannibal's memories inform Will. Will clicks his tongue in distaste.

All the humans arrange themselves in variously colored pelts. Will is surprised to discover that Hannibal mimics everyone else in the sense that he sheds them everyday before getting a new one. Once at moonlight, and again at sunlight.

"Why shed your pelt everyday if you can keep the same one on for at least one or two moon cycles? Over time it might harden and provide better protection," Will ponders from his spot on the odd clean-edged boulder made from wood.

"Our clothes would begin to smell horrendously." Hannibal slices the orange root food.

"You could just rinse it along with yourself in your daily 'showers'. Or like I said just keep it on for a while."

"I'm afraid humans who attempt such feats are rendered social outcasts."

"That's impudent."

Impudent is one of Will's favorite words. He hears Hannibal call the humans that visit him that quite often. Will delights in their shared hatred for people and their actions.

"By that you refer to those who outcast such people?"

"Yes, surely anyone with half a brain can see they are the purest form of human. Choosing to be one with the earth and all it provides."

"You belong with hippies in a rally during the 70's." Hannibal's eyes glimmer with amusement as he continues chopping the poppy colored root food before finally adding it to the bubbling water. "They also believe in making efforts to maintain the health of forests and bodies of water in nature. I am inclined to agree."

"Excellent. I'm glad there's some humans with sensibilities." Will continues his attempts at drawing. He's tried recapturing the minute detail of his home, the calm every solitary waters, but the graphite doesn't quite do it justice. He also suspects he just isn't up to par with the beautiful detail Hannibal can capture in his drawings. Not that Will would ever tell the man as such, lest the strange man's ego get bigger.

"Lunch is ready," Hannibal announces as he sets the table with flourish.

Will takes this as cue to put his supplies away. "Your friend said something strange to me the other day," Will gives Hannibal his thanks as he serves him a glass of water.

"Oh?"

Will dips his whole hand inside the cup's water before careful dipping his other one in. Upon seeing Hannibal's disapproval Will raises the glass. Hannibal gives him a small encouraging smile, Will returns it, before raising the cup higher and dumping its contents on his head. Hannibal's lips go flat.

"Yes. He asked me if I was sleeping with you. I informed him that no, we sleep in separate nests."

Hannibal wipes the stray water from the floor beside Will before standing up and going back to his end of the table. "And what did he respond to that?"

"Nothing much. He said 'Yeah, _right_ ' and I said 'No, _left_ '. I don't think he got my joke." Will frowns down at the bowl. He glances up at Hannibal and takes his lead in picking up the curved utensil and dipping it in the mesh. "I thought you said humans liked those."

"Some people lack a sense of humor." Hannibal brings his glass up to his face, smelling its contents before drinking it. "What was the name of this friend of mine you mentioned?"

"He said his name was Franklyn Fred-e-vuah," Will fumbles on the last name.

"Would you mind if we had him for dinner this Friday?"

"No. But I suspect he doesn't like me." Will savors the strange blend of ingredients Hannibal created. He's rather good at it. "I don't like him much either."

"I suspect you'll like him this Friday."

* * *

They spend their days like this, conversing and doing idle things. During the time Hannibal goes to meet up with his patients, Will spends the hours resting in the round bathtub in one of many Hannibal's weirdly over-decorated rooms. There isn't much room for swimming but Hannibal assures him that will change when he gets the 'pool installed'. Will scoffs at this, sure that whatever this pool is won't compare to the waters of his lake. Still, Will doesn't ask Hannibal to take him back.

Will's grown to like the man's company, used to his weird hobbies and funny pelts. Every now and then, on what Hannibal calls the 'weekend', he'll take Will on a ride in his car. Will enjoys seeing the outdoors, especially the areas with vast amounts of trees. Will then points out the interesting things he sees to Hannibal and to the men tied up in the back seat. They never respond, only give muffled grunts, but Will feels slightly guilty in not including them in the conversation.

Then, in what is Will's favorite part, Hannibal lets the men loose in front of Will's lake, prompting Will to chase and devour. They scream and beg but Will doesn't mind their struggle, decides their rudeness comes from not being adept to the cold water like his superior body is. He winds up eating them, of course, often Will offers a piece of flesh to Hannibal, but to his confusion Hannibal rejects it every time.

"What kind of cannibal rejects human flesh?" Will struggles not to be insulted as he throws the femur bone somewhere into the lake.

"I prefer to cut it to my liking, marinate, and season, before cooking it."

"I just don't understand all of that, why not just enjoy it as it is?" Will swims along the bank.

"Eating certain meat raw can be unhealthy for humans." Hannibal stands and begins folding his pants legs up before removing his shoes. Will knows what comes next. "Though I do on occasion consume it anyway."

Will observes as Hannibal steps into the water, a mere few lengths away.

He quickly shifts his teeth to the dainty human kind. Upon further consideration, Will retracts the colorful flumes on his spine, shortens his poisonous claws and takes away the webbed aspect of his fingers, changing his appearance until Will deceptively looks completely human. A neat little trick he also does when Hannibal brings guests over.

Hannibal brings his hand up to softly caress Will's face, admiring it with fervent ardor Will feels through their shared gaze. "You're lovely like this, but I do not require you to reign in your true nature for me, Will. The consolidation of your physical and mental traits astound me beyond whatever any human could ever provide. I would ravish you in any way you'd allow me to."

A ragged sigh escapes Will's lips as Hannibal's own draw close. This time they meet softly, there is no rush in their movements, meshing like the different hues of green and blues do in the waves of the fresh water. There, under the guidance of the pale moonlight, Hannibal and Will intertwine and reach a solace only they could ever understand.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it. I might make another chapter.


End file.
